KEY POINTS:
New Zealand courts have struggled with questions of justice for celebrities.
Inevitably most of those questions concern publicity: whether or not to suppress publication of the person's name or any identifying details. Courts correctly observe that open justice in such a case can be more damaging than any conventional punishment the court can impose. But they sometimes forget that the public has rights too and often they get the balance wrong.
In the case of All Black Sitiveni Sivivatu the Hamilton District Court got it (mostly) right. Sivivatu's name was suppressed when he first appeared in court on a charge of assaulting his wife, and it remained suppressed until the charge was proven, or admitted in his case.
Thereupon, Judge Phillip Connell allowed publication of his name and the few details of the assault revealed in open court, and discharged Sivivatu without a conviction, let alone a normal sentence for the offence. It was, he said, a relatively minor assault.
The All Black's misfortune duly led news bulletins and dominated our front page yesterday. There is no higher celebrity in this country than an All Black. Every country has a sport or pastime that it celebrates above all others and comes to know and admire its best practitioners more than most. National representative rugby players have that status here.
They accept it and they are warned of the risk. An All Black who falls from grace stands to fall more heavily than other mortals.
Name suppression might protect the individual but it is worse for the code.
Until recently it was commonly and cynically said that "an All Black can do no wrong". Whatever the truth of it, many believed that whenever one of rugby's young stars got into trouble off the field, the game used all its connections to ensure the incident was hushed up as much as possible and criminal charges were avoided.
If so, it happens less now thankfully. From Tana Umaga's "handbag" incident to the Sivivatu case, minor transgressions have been openly admitted and dealt with. Now it remains for the courts to become consistent in their treatment of offending players.
Two years ago another All Black admitted an assault on his pregnant wife, which sounds worse than Sivivatu's offence. He too was discharged without conviction but granted permanent name suppression. Consequently, every mention of his case casts an utterly unfair slur on his teammates. That is what usually happens when a court gets it wrong.
When the right thing is done, it is natural to feel sympathy for the fallen hero. When guilt is admitted, amends made, a public apology offered without excuses or self pity, the hero deserves to be restored in popular regard. In those circumstances sympathy can extend to disapproval of the very disclosure of the person's misfortune. The right to know can be an elusive virtue once you know.
The right to know is no more or less than a right not to be deceived. When any person finds him or herself a figure of public admiration the public has a right to know its admiration is deserved. A certain right to privacy remains but disappointing behaviour deserves to be exposed. When courts suppress names or details they are the author of a public deception. They may do so in the interests of justice as they see it but it is deception no less.
They do better to deal honestly with the public and take the likely publicity into account when they deal with the offender. Judge Connell has done so reasonably in this case. It should be the model from now on.